Claire De Luna
by duskglow
Summary: It was a beautiful night, and Luna had it to spend by herself. Does the moon love her? A companion fic to "Claire De Lune" by Claude Debussy.


The sky was crystal clear, it had been a beautiful spring day, and the night was shaping up to be just as beautiful. The crickets and frogs were all singing a lovely chorus, and the moon, big and bright, was low on the horizon, lighting the sky around it with a beautiful white light that threatened with just a hint of blue.

The lights of the castle were in the distance, sillhouetted against the black sky, twinkling with their own kind of magic. Fairy lights were flittering all over, small flecks of multicolored light contrasting against the dark of the forest, radiating with an ethereal glow. Dim, magic lamps were on either side of the path, illuminating just enough to walk by, but not enough to spoil one's view of the sky.

A small, pretty, silver-eyed girl walked lightly down the path towards the Black Lake. She was clad in a light, blue sundress which flowed around her like it was a part of her, but in the darkness it appeared more black. She was walking barefoot, occasionally skipping off the path to feel the grass between her toes. She was humming a soft song to herself, her eyes glimmering with reflected moonlight, mirth, and mischief.

She loved the moon. Not only was she named after it, but it was beautiful – it cast shadows on the ground that her father always said reminded him of her eyes.

She was distracted by the small fairy-lights, flittering around like lightning bugs. Oh, she loved the fairy lights! She danced around amongst them, and they seemed to enjoy her company, sometimes lighting in her hair, performing a complex dance of joy and friendship. Laughing happily with a bell-like giggle, she danced with the fairy-lights all the way to the lake, her sundress twirling, revealing slender legs as yet untouched by the ravages of adulthood. She lifted her arms, giggling softly, and watched as the fairly lights twined themselves between, dancing merrily.

Finally, she twirled and danced her way to the lake, and she stopped, looking at her reflection. Her dirty-blonde hair was illuminated by the moon, seemingly glowing of its own accord, and her eyes stared back at her. Her face was pretty, if young, her chest nothing to speak of yet, but her eyes were as grown up as any she'd ever seen – full of wisdom, and knowledge, and sadness – more sadness than she could bear sometimes. She brushed her hair back, and watched, enraptured, as the figure in the lake brushed its hair back too, lips slightly parted, eyes big and lashes full. For a moment - just a moment - she saw an image of the stunning beauty she would eventually become, and it took her breath away. But not yet. Not now.

And then she looked up at the moon, seeing the variations in terrain, the seas of dark silver against the ranges of light. As the silver light bathed her face, she closed her eyes and imagined that she could fly, she could fly to the moon, where there would be no more death, no more sorrow, no more crying, where maybe everything would finally be made new. She lifted her arms to the moon, in gentle supplication to the light bathing her.

She opened her eyes, and she was still on the earth, there was still pain, and sorrow, and tears.

Her eyes welled up just a little bit, and sniffling, she walked along the lake, sometimes walking on the grass, sometimes twirling, trying desperately to remember what it was like to be a little girl, untroubled by the world, enjoying the moon on her face and the grass between her toes. The fairy lights followed her, jockeying for position around her, lighting her in small spots of beautiful colors.

Her path took her near the forbidden forest, and she saw a Unicorn standing there, staring at her. It was beautiful – iridescent, even glowing faintly in the light of the moon, beckoning her closer.

She walked closer to the unicorn and hesitantly put her hand out. The unicorn nickered, but allowed her to pet its head, scratching around its horn, which it seemed to greatly enjoy. It looked up at her, and there was a tear in its eye, as well.

Innocence is so offended by the world sometimes.

The Unicorn rubbed its face against her hand, as if to say something in silent commiseration, and walked back into the forest.

Luna walked back to the lake, and sat down next to it, swishing her toes in the water.

The moon shone down on her.

The moon was her friend. The moon would always be her friend. Maybe it would be her only friend.

The gentle splashing of the merpeople in the distance was the only sound, other than the insects and the gentle lapping of the otherwise calm water against the shoreline. She closed her eyes. She could still feel the moon.

The moon was hers. The moon was hers, and the fairy lights were hers, and the lake was hers, everything was hers.

She smiled.

She stood up, twirled around to music only she could hear, and danced in a few inches of water, enjoying the cool of the water on her feet.

Finally, she ambled back to the castle, saying goodbye to all that was hers, but mostly the moon. And she walked through the doors, back to the safety of Hogwarts. But her moon was always outside, always waiting, always watching, always ready to listen to her. The moon was her friend. She loved the moon.

In her dorm, she changed into her pyjamas, and went to sleep – the rays of the moon dancing on her cheek through the window as she slept.

The moon loved her too.


End file.
